


One Year Anniversary

by telekinesiskid



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Coping, Dipper is 13, Emotionally distant and struggling parents, Family Bonding, Gen, Loss, Support, Technically a teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:02:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telekinesiskid/pseuds/telekinesiskid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been approximately one year since Mabel Pines died in Gravity Falls. Unable to cope with the upcoming anniversary of her death, Dipper's parents send him back to Gravity Falls for the summer. He's lucky he has Grunkle Stan to care for him and help him through the sudden resurgence of his grief.</p><p>He knows he shouldn't go back to her place of death. He knows he should've forgotten all about that Journal and the horrible mysteries of the bunker in the forest.</p><p>He simultaneously wishes he'd never gone back, and also that he'd gone back a hell of a lot sooner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Year Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> This story inspired by: I can't think of anything worse than losing your twin.
> 
> (Why in my GF stories does Mabel always end up "dead" in some sort of way .-. I love her really - I just love torturing Dipper a little bit more...)
> 
> edit: a very special thank you to my girlfriend who beta'd this (I'm so sorry I keep forgetting, I'm awful ;-;)

Dipper had never wanted to return to Gravity Falls. He had thought that, after what had happened last summer, no one would ever make him go back there again. But his parents had different plans.

He supposed he couldn’t blame them. Between their work and his schooling, they hadn’t seen very much of one another throughout the year. Interactions had been brief and strained, at best. It must’ve gotten tiring for them, he thought, having a boy hang around the house all day, now that school was over for the summer. It was funny – last summer he’d been too loud and excitable to keep around; this summer he was too quiet and brooding. He just couldn’t seem to strike a perfect balance of acceptable behaviour. He’d tried to stay out of their way whenever he felt them getting annoyed with him, always keeping to himself and only making appearances for sit-down meals, but not even that could ease the strain after a while.

It was the fact that his parents hadn’t even tried to discuss it with him that he resented the most. Almost as if they thought he might kick up a fuss; by doing this they had cut off any chances of protest. He hadn’t even known they were planning on sending him back to Gravity Falls until one night, just as soon as he’d finished washing up after dinner, they wordlessly handed him a ticket and ruffled his hair and walked out of the room. Dipper had to look at the information on the ticket to work out that it was leaving early the following morning. He had less than twelve hours to pack his bags, get a good night’s rest, and catch a bus.

At least they gave him a ride to the station. They were capable of that much. Though, he had wished they’d stayed longer. Even if it was just long enough to smile and wave and watch his bus safely depart the station.

It had been his very first bus ride alone after all.

The bus ride from California to Oregon had taken a little over twelve hours. The boredom was unbearable, so Dipper had slept for most of it, when he could, when the driver didn’t swerve too sharply and make his head knock into the window. Even when he was painfully awake, it was dark and raining for most of the way; there wasn’t very much light to read by. For the first half of the trip, whenever the bus took breaks and changed drivers and dropped off passengers, Dipper took the chance to jump outside and stretch his aching, restless body. By the second half, Dipper was too woozy and sore to even move.

When the bus finally arrived in Gravity Falls, Dipper felt a pressure in his chest. The weather was nicer here and he could see his great uncle out the window, leaning against the hood of his burgundy car, arms crossed and waiting. Dipper tried to feel at least a little glad to see him again, but the dread he felt when he saw his uncle’s face was just crushing. He hadn’t seen Stan in almost a year.

Dipper stepped off the bus, along with the driver, who fetched his tattered suitcase from the luggage compartment for him. He was bid a good day and then the driver was back on the bus, speeding off.

Dipper slowly approached his uncle, dragging his suitcase behind him. The old man laid eyes on him and a smile twitched at his face, as though he didn’t know whether he should’ve been happy to see Dipper again or not. He looked a little too much like he wished he’d never have to see his nephew ever again.

Dipper rubbed at his eyes. He hoped that his uncle could attribute his lack of enthusiasm to the grogginess that seemed to come with spending too many hours crammed in a bus seat. He murmured, “Hey Grunkle Stan.”

Stan didn’t answer him immediately. Then he sighed. “Hey Dipper.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, just waiting. But there was nothing else to wait for. No one else.

Stan reached out and tried to take the suitcase from Dipper’s hand. “Here – let me take that.”

“It’s OK.”

“I’ll take it,” Stan insisted, “It looks heavy.”

“Seriously, I got it.”

“No, I’ll get it.”

It didn’t matter. Dipper just let the handle be snatched out from his hand. With nothing to keep it occupied, it curled into a fist.

“Thanks, Stan.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Dipper slowly let out a long breath. He wondered to himself if it was going to be like this. For the rest of the summer.

“Come on kid,” Stan mumbled, placing one hand on Dipper’s shoulder while the other gestured their ride. “Let’s go.”

Dipper climbed into the vehicle and buckled himself in. He could hear Stan bit back some cuss words as he fumbled with the trunk, forcing the lid closed on his suitcase so fiercely that the car rocked. He peeked over his shoulder when a few long seconds had passed and Stan still hadn’t moved into the car yet. His uncle was bent over the roof, one hand over his tired face. He looked like he needed a few minutes, and Dipper didn’t mind letting his uncle have them. He kind of needed some himself.

The silence made the ride longer than it actually was. And it was a little nauseating. Dipper couldn’t tell if it was just the familiar scenery or the lack of fresh air in the car. Probably both. He stared out the window, watching rows upon rows of pine trees blur together, interspersed with rural homes and old cars. Every landmark and mention of Gravity Falls made his stomach flip like a sad pancake. The water tower, defaced by entirely new and ambiguous graffiti. The sign welcoming all tourists to Gravity Falls, like it was a quaint little town. And not at all a hellhole of despair.

“ _Kid_.”

Dipper turned his head and blinked up at his uncle. Had Stan been talking to him…? “What?”

“I said, did you want something to eat?”

Dipper pulled a puzzled face, and looked to where Stan was pointing out of the passenger side. The car had slowed right down now so that they could roll past Greasy’s Diner. It looked the same as always. It looked busy. Dipper could already see some townsfolk he recognised in the grimy windows, and he had to look away. “I’m not hungry,” he murmured.

“Ya sure, kid? ‘Cuz y’know, it’s not too late to get pancakes or something. Whatever you feel like.”

Dipper could hear in his uncle’s voice that he was trying. He was really making an effort. It just made Dipper feel like he was being unhelpful and difficult, and it put him off the very idea of food all the more.

“I’m sure, Stan.” He thought he’d better say something reassuring so that Stan wouldn’t fuss over him later. “I ate on the bus.”

Stan made a grunt like he didn’t believe him. But at least he dropped it.

The sun was almost set by the time they pulled up to the Mystery Shack. The sky was streaked with reds and pinks and oranges – it was nice, but it was chilling. Dipper stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. The air always felt so different compared to back home, in the city. So much fresher. So much denser. So much colder.

He took one look at the Shack, and all the emotions associated with the end of last summer hit him like a sucker punch to the gut – unannounced and merciless. He couldn’t move. He stared up at the yellow-lit triangular window above him and felt his insides squirm uncomfortably.

Stan stood with his nephew for a moment, giving him few soothing pats on the back. “There’s uh… some kind of monster movie marathon on tonight,” Stan tried to say brightly. “I bet you just missed the Gravity Falls Bargain Movie Showcase, huh kid. You know, I heard they actually made another _Help! My Mommy’s a Werewolf_ movie _._ ” He forced a chuckle. “What’ll they think of next? Uh… _Oh No,_ uh _… My Dad’s a- a Zombie!_ Ha ha. Right?”

Dipper tried to smile at Stan’s awful attempts at humour and distraction. But it wasn’t very convincing. “Thanks for the offer, Stan, but… I’m kinda tired from the trip.” He hoped he wasn’t being rude. He looked away from the window and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I just wanna sleep.”

Stan didn’t say anything. He glanced up and his uncle was staring at him, heaving a great silent sigh. “Yeah kid. I… Well, I’ll just be downstairs if you change your mind. I’d let you stay up late with me, if you wanted.”

“Thanks.”

Stan must’ve known his nephew was having some trouble stepping inside the Shack, because he wouldn’t go ahead of Dipper. He waited for him to move, and when Dipper didn’t move, he put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder and walked him up the rickety steps and through the front door. The place looked the same, smelled the same. Dipper couldn’t decide if it was good or bad that nothing seemed to have changed. Stan started up the stairs with the suitcase and Dipper followed him.

They climbed in silence, no sound but the slow trudge of their footsteps and the occasional creak of a loose stair. Every step that took Dipper closer to his summer bedroom made him a little slower, a little heavier. But he tried not to fall behind. He didn’t want Stan to worry about him anymore than he probably already was.

When they reached the attic and walked in, Dipper faltered. His bed was there, on the left side of the room as usual. The right side was exactly the same – dusty, a little musty and untouched – only now it felt… so much emptier.

“So, um…” Stan gently set down the suitcase. His voice was quiet and gruff. “Uh, I’ll head out tomorrow morning and restock the pantry. Is there… anything you want?” Dipper shook his head. “No? Anything you need?” Dipper shrugged. “Ya still eat the same brand of cereal?” Dipper nodded, and Stan nodded with him. “Right, right… Good.”

Stan’s eyes wandered around the attic. He seemed to be lingering, Dipper thought. Trying to find something more to say to him, before he would leave.

“It’s… It’s kind of warm in here, isn’t it?”

“Not really…”

“I had the window open all day, I… M-Maybe I should look into buying you a fan.”

“Stan, it’s OK,” Dipper said, catching his eye and forcing a smile. “Really.”

Stan stared back at him cautiously for a long while before he finally nodded, accepting his answer. He started to walk away.

Dipper had thought that his uncle was heading out the door, but Stan surprised him with a sudden hug from behind. Dipper shakily returned the embrace. “It’s… It’s good to see you again, Dipper.”

“Yeah,” he said, a little croakily. He gave his uncle a few awkward pats. “Y-You too.”

“Mmn… You know I’m…” It was hard for him to say it. “I’m here for you.”

Sharp, sweet pangs of warmth coursed through him. It had been a while since anyone had said that to him.

“If you wanna talk, or… or if you wanna do something, anything – I’ll make time for you.”

Dipper almost wanted to tell his uncle to knock it off; everything he was saying was so bittersweet it made him want to cry. It was so unlike the cranky old geezer that he normally was. He squeezed his uncle just a little bit before he let him go, and his smile was genuine this time. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”

Stan flashed him a smile and flicked the tip of Dipper’s cap on his way out. “Goodnight kid.”

“Goodnight.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Dipper all alone in the attic.

He sighed, wondering what the hell he was going to do now. It actually was a little stuffy in there, now that he thought about it. He opened up the window to let a light breeze in, aggressively ignoring the shape that just seemed to pop out at him everywhere he turned. He turned on the lamp and took a seat on the edge of the lumpy, stained old mattress on his side of the room. The painting of the ship still loomed proudly over it. Only it looked a little paler than Dipper had remembered. There were a few cobwebs in the corners too.

He found himself staring across the room at the other bed. His sister’s bed. He hadn’t noticed until now, but one of her thin purple headbands rested on her pillow. Stan must’ve found it last summer. It must’ve been left behind when all of her other headbands and sweaters and toys and posters and things were cleared out and packed away and placed in another attic.

The urge to cry came on so strong and fast. The more he stared at Mabel’s headband, the more he trembled. He turned himself away from it and curled up on his bed, not even caring that he hadn’t fetched a blanket yet. He closed his eyes and swallowed back his tears and tried to imagine that he was back at home, in his own room, with all traces of her existence safely kept out of sight and out of mind. He pretended that he was far, far away from this place.

The place where Mabel Pines had died last summer.


End file.
